


Let's Get Married

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey and Justin get married. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Get Married

**Author's Note:**

> for the 100 Ways challenge. my choice was "making love, romance" and hopefully this fulfills. Title from the Proclaimers song.

"Dude," Justin says, and looks over at Joey with a grin. "We're married."

It's all he's been able to say since the brief civil ceremony, aside from short utterances of "Wow" and "Oh my God" and "My mom's going to kill me". Forty minutes later and he can't stop smiling, so wide he feels his face is going to break open. But Joey's just grinning back at him, fit to burst, and their hands rest, fingers entwined, on Justin's thigh.

When they found out about it, that judges were going to overlook state law and sign marriage licenses, Justin had nearly leapt off the couch and tackled Joey to the ground, peppering him with kisses until, laughing, Joey agreed. They've been together five years, after all, and all their friends say they're the old married couple, so it only made sense. And Justin's been wanting this for so long. It could have been a little more romantic than on the steps of San Francisco's City Hall, with couples all around them going through the same ritual, their only witness a beaming Kelly with Briahna firm in tow, but Justin can't complain, because--

"I can't fucking believe it," he says again. "Married."

Joey pulls up to the house at last, shifting into park and leaning across to take Justin's face in his hands. The kiss is firm, eager, longer and sweeter than the brief peck he'd given Justin when the minister had said, "You may now kiss your husband." Justin groans against Joey's lips and fumbles with his seatbelt, gasping, "Race you inside."

It's different somehow, this time. They've been having sex for as long as they've been going out, but Justin feels almost shy as he unbuttons his shirt, even though Joey's already got his off and is shucking off his khakis. The sight of him, long and broad and solid, takes Justin's breath away. His fingers slip and Joey steps up to help him, nuzzling his ear with warm lips, the whiskery goatee brushing Justin's ear to make him shiver.

"I love you so much," Joey whispers. Justin drops his hands and lets Joey finish undressing him.

Even though they left first thing in the morning, the wait in line lasted hours, and afternoon sunlight slants across the bed as Justin sits down, tugging Joey with him. He kicks sheets out of the way, urging Joey to blanket him instead, and he does, their bodies aligned shoulder to shoulder and chest to chest, cock to cock, thigh to thigh. Justin quivers and quickens with need. He knows as he looks up at Joey's that their faces are mirrored, lust and desire, hunger and love all painted in strong brushstrokes of emotion.

Joey kisses Justin's wrists, draws them over his head, and Justin's fingers hook by instinct under the lowest rod of the headboard. He watches, breath trembling, while Joey reaches for and finds the lube under a pillow, squirts some of the gleaming clear liquid over his fingers and rubs it to warm it up. Justin's hips arch up in mute longing; his cock, already stiff, flops against his belly and he gasps. Joey grins, but his face draws serious again as he leans over Justin, kissing him, tongue finding its way into his mouth even as Joey's fingers brush the stiff muscle of Justin's opening, one pressing in, then two, easy and slick and hot hot hot.

"Want you," Justin manages to moan, though when Joey finds his prostate -- sweet pleasure blooming all through him like fire -- he can't even speak, can't articulate his desire. Joey just takes his fucking time, fingers moving slow, probably grinning like the fucker he is, too, but Justin can't open his eyes to see because he's afraid he might come just from watching. When a sudden damp heat covers the head of his cock, Justin yelps and shoves his hips up, the wash of sensation abruptly too much.

But Joey relents, thank fucking Christ, and his mouth is gone and then his fingers too and Justin feels swollen and aching and empty, but it's only for a moment: the pump of more gel, Joey making a soft hungry sound, and Justin opens his eyes to watch as Joey moves over him, broad and strong and flushed with need, one hand between them to fit himself to Justin. They haven't used condoms for a couple of years now, dozens of tests to make sure they're both clean and a lot of trust to their commitment, but right now it feels more intense than ever as Joey presses in, slow, working gradually deeper, inch by tender inch. And then he's fully seated, buried completely inside Justin's body, and Justin's reaching up to wind his arms around Joey's neck, wanting to feel him everywhere.

His hands splay over Joey's back and one of Joey's arms slides around his shoulders, holding them tight together. It's a little awkward, but only at first, and Justin loves this, being held close as possible to Joey's heated body, rough hair and smooth skin, broad thighs parting his, Joey moving easily with slick twists of his hips that drive him deep into Justin's body. Justin can't look into Joey's face for long; it's so full of stunned arousal that Justin has to close his eyes against the power of it. *He* did this, got Joey so turned on, and he loves that. Sometimes he still can't believe Joey wants to be with him as much as he wants to be with Joey -- and that thought makes him grin, now, raising his head up so he can kiss Joey desperately. Now he knows it for sure, he has proof on his hand.

"Stop thinking so hard," Joey mutters against his mouth, and Justin laughs, the sound punctured by a sharp groan when Joey pushes in hard and fast and suddenly Justin's riding the edge, closer to his orgasm than he wants to be. He bites his lip hard, willing it back until the whiteness slowly dims from his eyes. When he opens them again, Joey's grinning down at him, his forehead beaded with sweat.

"Relax, baby," Joey says in a low rippling tone. "It's OK, we got time, I want to feel you." He lets go of Justin's shoulders so he can hold himself up with one hand, shifting so the other hand slides between their slick bellies to unerringly grasp Justin's erection. Justin arches back and cries out, half from the powerful sensation and half from unhappiness; he wanted it to last, but Joey knows just where to touch him and how. His fist moves fast on Justin now, wringing shocking sparks of lightning out of him, and every thrust moves just right to make him scream--

It's over too fast, too fast, the impossible sweetness of it, and Justin sinks down, shaking and gasping for breath, but he doesn't let his legs slip away from Joey's waist yet. Joey's still moving fast, both hands in fists on the mattress now, pushing hard and relentless into Justin's accepting body, and Justin reaches up to cup Joey's nape, murmuring, "Come on, come on, come in me, baby--" until Joey gives a grunt and a low groan and sheathes himself in Justin, shaking.

"God," Justin murmurs, when Joey's sunk down on him, weight evenly spread over Justin's body. They're entangled, still engaged; Justin loves this part, too, feeling Joey still inside him, limp above him, their bodies glued together by a paste of sweat and semen. "I love you," he finally says, because he can't think of anything remotely coherent to say.

"Love you, too." Joey lifts his head for a soft kiss, his mouth gentle on Justin's, and then settles it again. Justin smells the sweat in Joey's hair and smiles, kisses his ear. In the soft afternoon light slanting deeper over the bed, his ring glows, and it makes him smile all over again.

"We're married," he whispers in Joey's ear.

Joey gives a sleepy snort and rolls off of Justin, reaching for the kleenex on the nightstand, and uses a handful to wipe himself off, then Justin. "Yep," he grins. "We are."


End file.
